


It Rained & It Poured

by trustxlovexhope



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Awkward Mikey Way, Bad Decisions, Bottom Frank Iero, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Forbidden Love, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Enemies, How Do I Tag, LSD, M/M, Marijuana, Mikey hates Frank, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Gerard Way, Porn With Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Top Gerard Way, Why do i make all of my characters sad, psychedelics, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustxlovexhope/pseuds/trustxlovexhope
Summary: Frank didn't know the true definition of corruption until he met Gerard.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

The sunset sits crested over the rising stars, shining its magnificent light across the horizon, as far as the eye can see, and down the grey city lanes that Frank's roamed for years. The sky sits polluted peach and violet, toned around the edges with the rising dark black fade of nighttime. And finally, the local star disappears down the bend of Earth itself, burning a brilliant, painful red, slowly dying from light and waning from its full potential. 

Despite the setting sun’s glorious rays, Frank, Pete, Mikey, and Patrick can’t see a damn thing. Chilled drops of rainfall from their great ascent in the sky, gravity pulling each droplet down to the ground. Frank feels one droplet fall in his thick, dark hair, barely reaching his scalp. 

“Yo, Frankie,” Pete calls, his voice echoing off the elementary school walls. His dark brown eyes rise to see the teen waving him down from the other side of the chainlink fence. Frank sighs, looking the seven-foot fence up and down wondering if he could scale it without help. He sees Mikey drop from the peak, right onto his feet and Frank isn’t sure how he doesn’t fall over in pain.

“I’m coming,” Frank grumbles, moodily. This is one of the things he hates about visiting his old elementary school. It’s nice to see the places he used to see, but at the same time, the fence is normally locked, as the school is abandoned, which means he has to scale it every time they visit.

Frank, though he's reluctant, is ready for the challenge and decides to follow Mikey's steps. He pulls his backpack closer around him and slowly starts to scale the fence. Hand, hand, foot, foot, hand, hand, foot, foot. He makes his way up, the underpart of his fingers stinging in displeasure. Frank pushes himself further up despite the pain and finally peaks the fence, throwing his backpack over before following, making his way down at first before falling the rest of the way into the dark, unlit grass. 

Patrick's the last to follow, pushing himself up over the fence as well, Frank watches as his blond hair falls into his face, sweat sticking to his body. When he finally follows behind, they embark on towards the school building. They've been here hundreds of times before and this is just one of the many since they began high school. Frank's on his last year of schooling, pushed back into his senior year. Pete and Patrick are right behind him in junior year, and Mikey is in sophomore year. Nonetheless, they've stayed together through elementary school, middle school, and high school. Despite all the stupid fights and problems they've had with each other, they still love and respect each other. They've been friends for years.

Pete's always been the jokester, always doing the craziest shit to get even a droplet of attention. Mikey's been the calm and collected kid who makes sure they don't end up in jail. Patrick is Pete's supporting cast, always there to try to sort out whatever thoughts go through Pete's head. And Frank? Frank's been the loud, excited kid with a huge heart and the "father" of the group. He isn't sure how they ended up with their distinct personalities but it fits with the group, even better than they thought it would originally.

Patrick sighs, pulling his bag from the ground as they continue together in their tightly-knit group. They push on down the narrow sidewalk, avoiding the cameras that roam the school and sticking in the shadows as they've practiced over and over again. They've been caught here before several times by the cops, by security, by the Karens who decide to walk the streets at night looking to find someone who is "offending" them. Whoever it was, they've been caught before. So now, they know exactly what to do to avoid the dangers of the law. They know what corners to turn, which rooms they're allowed to enter, and where they can relax without being caught. At one point, Frank ended up being suspended from school for a week straight and he wasn't allowed back on the school grounds without an adult. Though, that didn't last long. So far, he hasn't been caught again. So hopefully, it won't be an issue.

They take a sharp left and stop in front of one of the classrooms. Pete is the first one in, leaving his bags behind for a moment as he climbs the windowsill and slowly opens the slightly ajar window, a curtain string being the only thing keeping it from shutting completely. It's a failsafe that's worked too many times to count. He finally ducks in the window and pulls in everyone's bags, setting them on the linoleum floor before he helps up Patrick, then Mikey, and finally, Frank.

Frank shuts the window behind them and they're alone together in the abandoned classroom. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling and tube lights line in strips above them, vacant of power and utterly useless the way they are now. Desks sit pushed against the far wall, empty and broken. On the wall beside the door sits a blackboard, covered in tags and spraypaint now. Different words and phrases they've graffitied over the years. "Dead Gang," "No Sleep For Cocksuckers," "Pete Wuz Hear," "Smegma," "I LIKE 8=3!!!!!!" Just the normal sort of thing you'd see from a group of queer teens. The usual.

"What song are we putting on today, pals?" Pete asks a bit too loudly. He's got his phone in hand, ready to play anything they need. Patrick is the first to suggest a song with a sharp, "Longview, man. I already requested it."

"Right, right," Pete presses a cigarette between his lips as he types in the song and finally presses play, turning up the volume to max and setting the phone down on the teacher's desk, now covered in mold stains and faded varnish. He lights up his cigarette, sitting on the desk.

"How are you doing?" 

Frank doesn't realize the question is directed towards him until he realizes Mikey isn't moving from in front of him. When it's asked, he isn't sure how to reply at first. How has his life been? His mom's been worried about it him a lot lately (though, when isn't she?). His dad's been busy working and all of the time he doesn't spend at the house, he spends out with friends or at school. It's a good life, not too much schoolwork but enough to keep him busy. His friends genuinely care about him. Frank's happy. Like actually, genuinely happy. Probably for the first time in a long time considering...

"Good, actually," He finally replies, leaning back against the desk. He notices Pete out of the corner of his eye holding Patrick's hand flirtatiously. He rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to Mikey, "How about you?"

"It's... alright." He says it in a way that doesn't particularly sound alright. He trails off afterward, staring at the floor for a moment, thinking about whatever's been on his mind. Frank's eyebrows knot in confusion and concern. Mikey's usually alright, usually doesn't complain much about the shit that happens in his life. Because, honestly, nothing much ever happens in his life. Frank never met Mikey's family, but he knows that Gerard's already graduated and has his own place not far from Mikey's. He also knows that Mikey's parents tend to be slightly overprotective and now that they can't be that way about Gerard, they've harnessed all that nervous energy into Mikey. Frank wonders how in the hell Mikey managed to even get out tonight.

"What's up, man? You don't sound alright." Frank replies, genuinely concerned for his friend. Mikey avoids his eyes, sniffling his runny nose from the cold outdoors.

“It’s fine, honestly. It’s just some stupid shit that’s gonna pass eventually, but right now it just sucks to deal with.” Mikey replies.

“What is it?” Pete butts in, now paying attention to the conversation instead of Patrick. Frank eyes the man before turning his consciousness back to the friend in need.

“I don’t know if I should say yet.” Mikey seems anxious, trying to avoid the question as well as he can. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, his breathing picking up in pace just slightly so as soon as he’s done exhaling, he’s immediately inhaling again and so on. He seems afraid of the consequences that might come.

“You know this is a safe place, we won’t ever judge you and you should feel free to let anything out here, dude. Seriously. We’ve got your back,” Patrick butts in gently, trying to give the brunette as much comfort as he can. Frank nods in agreement, trying to show how important his words are.

Mikey takes in a deep inhale before he sighs and says to them, “My parents have been assholes lately and they’re threatening to take away everything that isn’t related to school because they know I’ve been sneaking out lately. So, I’m considering moving in with Gerard so people will quit being on my ass all the time.”

“You should, that’s good for you.” Pete says immediately, ashing out his cigarette, “Why are you anxious, though?”

“It’s just… been years since I last talked with Gerard. They’re, what, 21 now? They left three years ago and I haven’t said much more than a single hello to them in all that time. What if they’re different now? Or what if they don’t like me anymore? What if we just don’t get along like we used to?” Mikey’s head is running and Frank can see it. He understands the situation must be hard. Mikey and Gerard have always had a complicated relationship, everyone could see that. But, in the end, they’re brothers. They both have similarities that could never be taken apart.

“Gerard was really sweet the last time I talked with them,” Patrick says softly, “I’m sure they haven’t changed too much since you last saw them.”

Mikey nods softly, still not completely assured from his anxiety, but it seemed like the thought helped. He licks his lips and nods again, meeting Frank’s eyes.

“I need help moving my shit if I do end up going through with it, though.” Mikey says, “Would you be up to help? I don’t mean to be a burden but it would mean a lot. I know you have a car.”

“Of course I can help, man,” Frank immediately replies, a smile on his thin lips, “You know I’m always here to help you out.”

“And us, too,” says Pete, referring to himself and Patrick, “You just give us a date and time. Frank can come to pick us up, and we’ll start packing up the car with your stuff. Just text the group chat, man.”

“Yeah, for real,” Frank agrees, “Let us know.”

“Thanks, guys,” Mikey grins, genuinely happy and grateful for the help. His expression shines through completely genuine.

“Of course,” Frank smiles, “Come on, let’s play some games.” He pulls out his DSi from his bag, preparing to play the Pokemon Black and White they just recently bought together. It’s their ritual. Every time they come up here, they play whatever Pokemon game they’ve been obsessing over together. Even if it’s a different game from someone else’s, it’s just what they do. They’ve done it for years, ever since middle school when the new elementary school was announced and all security for the old one just left.

They pull snacks and drinks from their bags, sit down on the floor on the pile of blankets Patrick and Frank brought months ago, and just play until sunrise. 

This was how it had always been. And that’s exactly how Frank hoped it would always be.

Even if the world did change.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank pulls his van forward to park in Mikey’s driveway, examining the suburban architecture. Shades of tan, yellow, red, and brown make up the architecture, faded from the beating rays of the sunlight constantly stripping the paint of its vibrance. The grass outside is a bright green, the only one lawn not completely dead like their neighbors. Light green bushes line the driveway and a few boxes already sit at the very edge of the road, awaiting Frank’s vehicle.

As soon as his car slows to a stop, Frank hears the backdoors open with a click, and Patrick and Pete immediately come out, squinting in the sunlight before Pete grabs the first box from the driveway and Patrick knocks on Mikey’s front door. Frank slowly pulls himself out as his keys turn in the ignition, turning the vehicle off. He pops the trunk from the front and leaves the car, his feet pressing down onto hard concrete. 

He works his way around the car before squinting over to the house in the bright sun. He notices the front door open in front of Patrick and sees a large cardboard box grasped in Mikey’s hands. He says something to Patrick before continuing to the van, Patrick now entering, probably to grab more boxes. 

Frank pulls his feet to the gray driveway, pulling boxes from the ground to stack into the trunk beside Pete as Mikey joins them as well.

“The boxes are all in my room, everything’s already packed up,” Mikey says in a monotone voice. He doesn’t seem too thrilled about moving, or maybe it’s the number of lectures Frank is sure Mikey had to go through to even be able to move out. He is a sophomore, and while Frank doesn’t know the laws too well, he’s sure it isn’t completely legal to move without letting somebody official know.

“Do you think they’ll all fit?” Frank asks, already seeing that his trunk is beginning to stack up with boxes. 

“They should, there’s only four more inside,” Mikey replies. He looks to the now-empty driveway. All of the boxes already moved, so Frank follows the brunette inside. He’s never been in Mikey’s house before out of the several years he’s known him. It’s slightly strange to think about it considering they’ve been to Pete’s house, Patrick’s house, and Frank’s house to hang out, but never Mikey’s. It was always because of strict parenting and the fact that they never liked having too many people over. Frank got lucky with his own lax parents. 

“How are you feeling, man?” Frank asks Mikey as they reach the sophomore’s room. Mikey laughs in reply, empty and anxious.

“I’m anxious as all hell, but hopefully things won’t be that bad,” He says, “Would you be okay with helping me unpack when we get there? If not, that’s okay, but it would be much appreciated.”

Frank smiles gently, “Of course, I can help. I’m not busy today at all, so we could even hang out for a while if Gerard is okay with that.”

“Right,” Mikey pauses, thinking for a moment, “I’ll see. I’d like to, but I’ll have to ask Gerard since it’s his house and all.”

“That’s fine,” Frank finishes, pulling the next box up. It’s heavy and the moment he tries to grab it, it begins to slip. Mikey, thankfully, is quick to help him carry it and they maneuver it up the stairs. Frank’s out of breath by the time they reach the peak of the steps, “What the hell did you pack? Bricks?”

It’s a joke that he can barely laugh at because of his exertion.

“I actually can’t remember what was in this box,” Replies Mikey, “Probably my toolbox or something.”

“Toolbox?” Frank asks, “Quite a heavy fucking toolbox.”

“Yeah, I know. My dad gave it to me,” Mikey laughs, following Frank through his lawn to put it in the back of his trunk. Patrick and Pete show up not long after with more boxes, pressing them into the car.

“I can grab the last one,” Mikey says, turning back towards the house, “Thank you for helping, guys.”

“Of course, just get in the car when you’re done,” Frank replies. Mikey nods before turning back towards the house, walking through the front door. He shuts it behind himself, which Frank finds odd at first, but he figures he just needs to say goodbye or something.

Patrick, Pete, and Frank share a glance of worry, but Pete leaves for the passenger seat of the car anyways, just anxious to leave and help pull the boxes from the car into Gerard’s car.

Frank and Patrick enter the car in their own seats to wait for Mikey, sharing small talk between themselves.

“I have to leave soon,” Patrick notes from the back, his eyes glued to his phone, “When we take the boxes out of the car, would you be okay with catching a bus with me?”

The question is directed towards Pete, Frank doesn’t have to look to know it. For one, they’re dating. Second, they live two blocks from each other. Third, Frank doesn’t take the bus and he has his own car. He would offer to drive them, but it’s a long drive and he’d just have to turn around to help Mikey back at Gerard’s house, so he doesn’t say anything.

Pete replies to his partner’s request with an enthusiastic, “Of course.”

And then they sit in silence once more, Frank on his phone, waiting. 3:10 turns into 3:20 and then 3:35. He begins to worry and Patrick suggests they see what’s taking so long, but Frank denies the request. He knows Mikey will come out eventually. He’s probably just talking with his parents.

Just as he’s about to change his mind at 3:42, he notices Mikey exit the house, the last box in hand and a backpack on his back, tears rolling down his face. Frank and Pete share a glance of concern, even more intense than earlier. Frank feels the car move slightly as the last box is packed and the trunk is closed before the shotgun door opens, and Mikey sets his backpack on the floor space in front of him. He follows soon after, taking a seat, shutting his door, and buckling his seatbelt, eyes lowered, and denying any sort of examination.

Frank doesn’t say anything. Neither does Pete or Patrick, so instead of pondering on the moment, they make their way out. Mikey gives directions to Frank the entire time with a scratchy voice making it obvious he’d been using his voice louder than he usually does, or he’d been crying just a little too hard. Frank doesn’t judge, he’s just concerned for his friend, but he figures he can ask later when there aren’t three people pressing the poor kid.

“Take a left when you get to the next intersection,” Mikey says in his groggy voice, his arms crossed in front of his gray sweatshirt as he keeps his eyes low on the road.

Frank follows the direction, and then takes a right when Mikey says, and then another right. And that’s when they arrive. The area is much more vegetated than the last, covered in ferns and trees and all sorts of plants. Gerard’s house sits with a large chestnut tree in the front, looming over the house. Frank notices that the house is somewhat old, at least twenty years. The front porch is old and slowly caving in on itself. The stairs have cracks in the wood and he’s almost afraid to climb them.

Mikey is the first to get out, Frank isn’t sure if it’s because he’s eager or if it’s just because he wants it done and over with, but he follows with the same energy, immediately popping his trunk and turning off his engine once more. Patrick and Pete follow closely, grabbing boxes from the trunk. Mikey is the first to knock on the door, box in hand. The stairs didn’t collapse under him, but they did creak under his weight.

When the door opens, Frank’s eyes land on Gerard, and for some reason, his heart immediately begins racing. Red hair, unhealthily skinny, black tank top, skinny jeans, and a cigarette between his thin, cracked lips. His eyes are a bright shade of brown in the sunlight, shining like amber. Frank feels himself go weak at the knees as the brothers exchange a conversation.

“Gerard? Is that you?” Mikey asks shock is imminent in his voice. Frank would have guessed that Mikey had seen him at least once since Gerard left, but apparently not. He seems genuinely shocked.

“Of course it is,” Gerard says in a soft, smokey voice. Mikey drops the box and immediately embraces his brother, whispering out a croaked, “Holy shit. I missed you.”

Gerard smiles, but something seems off. They seem dead in a way, empty. Not in an apathetic way, but instead in a way that makes it seem like he’s distracted more than anything.

“I missed you, too, man,” Gerard replies gently, pulling away from the hug after a few seconds, “Bring your stuff in, I’ve already got your room set up.”

Frank, Patrick, Pete, and Mikey all follow Gerard into the house, carrying their boxes as they follow through a large living room and a hallway, taking a sharp left into Mikey’s bedroom. It’s small, but not so much that it’s cramped. A twin size bed sits snugly between two corners, covered in a dark blue bedspread. There’s a fair amount of walking space and a decently large closet that has enough floor space for some boxes and room to hang shirts as well as a shelf on top for room for pants and whatever other clothing would be needed.

They drop their boxes onto the bed and continue to bring in Mikey’s belongings, taking three trips total. It isn’t much, but it’s enough that by the time they’re done, everyone is out of breath. 

Patrick and Pete leave not long after with a shortened goodbye, leaving Mikey and Frank to unpack the rest of Mikey’s boxes. Frank isn’t sure where Gerard goes to, but from the strong smell of weed and cigarettes, his imagination doesn’t get far.

They unpack Mikey’s clothing, electronics, books, the toolbox, a few non-perishables that Mikey brought with him (ramen and cans of soup), CDs, and bathroom equipment. Mikey has one shelf beside his bed and a TV on a table against the far wall, so they’re able to unpack most of his belongings. The CDs go into a drawer at the bottom of the shelf, books go on the racks above that. His clothes are hung up in his closet, and his Xbox is plugged in beside the TV. Finally, after unpacking the rest of Mikey’s belongings, Mikey collapses into his bed, and Frank collapses onto the floor beside him.

They’re both panting, tired from the amount of unpacking it took. They just kind of lie there for a while, staring at the popcorn ceiling together. The window to the right of Mikey’s TV shines the last of the day’s light into the room, casting long shadows and vibrant rays against his walls.

“Hey, are you two done yet?” Gerard calls from the living room. Frank opens the door so Mikey can call back.

“Yeah, just finished!” 

“Do you wanna come smoke?” 

Frank’s eyebrows raised, slightly surprised that he’d offer that to either of them considering they aren’t legal age. Then again, he doesn’t know Gerard. Maybe he’s just like that. Mikey gives Frank a look that conveys a feeling of, “Are you down? Because I’m down if you’re down,” and Frank raises his eyebrows in reply, opening up the opportunity farther.

“Uh, sure!” Mikey replies, pulling up from the bed to rise to his feet. Frank joins him, pulling himself up with the doorknob.

Frank follows Mikey into the living room, noticing smoking equipment that had been brought out. Gerard has a bong beside him, a ziplock bag of weed, and a lighter. Frank pauses for a moment to examine exactly what’s going on and to just reevaluate his life choices to make sure that he does want to do this instead of relying on spontaneity to guide him. 

He’s never done drugs before. He’s lived around people who smoke, mostly Pete, but he’s never actually seen weed or been in contact with any sort of drug besides nicotine. Weed is very, very intimidating for him and he’s never known anyone that smokes before. It crosses his mind that he could just say no and move on with his life, but something about knowing what it’s like grasps his attention. He’s never been high before, never done anything like that before and it’s scary, but he still wants to try.

He figures if it’s just a few times, it’ll be fine. He can just continue with his life after knowing what it’s like to get high. Maybe he can give some advice to his kids when he’s older about it. He doesn’t know. 

Frank takes a seat on the couch on the left of Gerard while Mikey sits to his right, anxious and upright. Frank at least pretends to relax in front of Gerard, he wants to act like his nerves aren’t screaming. 

Gerard licks his lips as he asks the two, “Do you prefer bowls or blunts? Because I can go either way.”

“Uh…” Frank shares a glance of anxiety with Mikey who looks just as uncomfortable as he does. They aren’t sure what to say because neither of them even know. Mikey finally parts his lips as he confronts Gerard and says, “I’ve never smoked before.”

Gerard’s eyebrows raise high in surprise, genuinely surprised by the confession, “Really? I’d figure if you’re my brother you’d at least picked it up by now. But, I guess that’s not particularly a bad thing. How about you, Frank?”

When Gerard says the senior’s name, he feels a subtle shiver across his body. He tries his best to ignore it. It’s nothing. “I haven’t either.”

“Alright,” Gerard is less surprised as they were with Mikey. “Well, considering you’re both new, let’s make sure you don’t break my bong.” 

They set the bong down on the floor in front of them before standing and pulling a packet of joint wraps from the coffee table, “I’ll roll a joint, then.”

Frank leans back as he watches Gerard pull a tray from the coffee table as well, a grinder sitting pristinely on top. He gazes in interest as the red-head unscrews the top, breaks up small chunks of the flower, and places them inside before shutting the lid and grinding the weed. The whole time, Frank’s leg is bouncing on the other, he doesn’t realize it but his anxiety is showing. Gerard sees it completely.

After repeating the process twice, they pull a wrap from the packet and set it down, opening it to show the white paper. The tray shakes slightly as Frank’s leg bounces, so Gerard rests a hand on the anxious extremity. Frank immediately stops, another shiver running up his core. His cheeks light on fire.

With Frank’s leg no longer bouncing, Gerard completes his task of rolling the joint in about ten minutes. There’s still silence between them, but the TV at least fills some of the awkwardness that sits between them. The joint finishes with Gerard licking at the wrapping, mending the two ends together. They finish patting down the sides of it and then raise it to rest between their lips, sparking the end with their black lighter. Frank watches in fascination as they inhale, burning through the paper and into the weed, lighting a bright orange cherry. A few bright embers fall from the joint before he stops inhaling and exhales the smoke, the joint between their fingers.

They offer it to Mikey first, finally asking as Mikey takes a drag, “So, how were your last moments with Mom and Dad?”

Mikey coughs hard as he exhales, spluttering out onto the floor. Thankfully, it misses the joint, but he’s still coughing hard for the next solid minute. His face goes red as he tries to regain oxygen in his lungs, but it’s deemed a surprisingly hard task. By the time he finally manages to fill his lungs again, he looks as if he’s about to die, his eyes bloodshot and his lungs heavy. Gerard laughs at his little brother, not in spite, but admiration.

“It’ll get easier the next time you do it,” Gerard comments with a grin, passing the joint from Mikey to Frank, “But let me know if you need water or anything. I don’t mind the trip sitting.”

Frank inspects the joint for a moment before he presses it between his lips and inhales only slightly. He doesn’t inhale too much, as he doesn’t want to cough as hard as Mikey did, but enough that he does end up getting high. He pulls the joint out, passing it back to Gerard before he ends up dropping it as his lungs burn. He feels his throat get sore when he coughs, but it isn’t nearly as long as Mikey had. He inhales deeply to try to stop himself, but it doesn’t work as well as he hoped it would. He ends up coughing for a few seconds longer before his lungs finally calm down and he can relax again. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to exhale before the coughing had come. 

“What did you ask me earlier?” Mikey asks with a sore, croaky throat.

“Mom and Dad, how were they today?” Gerard repeats, taking another few drags of the joint, knowing that the two high schoolers wouldn’t be able to help too much with finishing the smoke.

“Oh,” Mikey pauses, “Fucking terrible. They decided to be especially transphobic today with their insults.”

“Ah, the usual,” Gerard chuckles, pressing the joint back between their lips before passing it onto their brother again.

“Just saying shit like, ‘Oh, you wouldn’t have to move out if you were normal like your brother! You’re just being overdramatic! Michelle, you’re a disgrace! Let’s just see how things go with Gerard, he’ll kick you out even before you move in!’” Mikey chuckles mocking their voices, “They’re such assholes.”

“I fucking know.” Gerard replies, watching Mikey take another hit, coughing less this time before he hands it off to Frank, “That’s why I never came out to them. I know they wouldn’t understand it. Funny how they wanted you to be ‘normal’ like me. Like I’m any more cis that you are.”

Mikey grins, Frank sees it through the cloud of smoke he exhales. The second hit is much easier than the first was, but the high still hasn’t kicked in yet.

“How long?” Frank asks.

Gerard gives him a confused look, knotting their eyebrows, “What?”

“I mean until it kicks in.” Frank continues, “Sorry.”

“Oh, uh. Maybe twenty minutes maximum? I’m not sure. You’ll feel it eventually. Do your parents approve of you smoking?”

“Not at all,” Frank says with a shit-eating grin. Gerard snickers.

“You’re welcome to stay here tonight. We can get high or drunk or whatever you want. I don’t want you going home baked off your ass and end up in trouble.”

“Oh,” Frank smiles softly, “Thank you.”

Gerard nods, smoking the joint down lower. It looks like it has maybe one more rotation before it’s out. It goes to Mikey again.

“So, what’s up with you?” Gerard asks Frank, nodding to get his attention.

“What do you mean?” Frank replies, confused with the question.

“Like… What are you into? Are you a tranny? Do you play video games? How old are you? You know, stuff like that. I’ve never met you before.” 

Frank has to think about the question for a moment, trying his best to not make his response awkward as the joint is passed once again. He isn’t sure if he’s ready for another hit, so he tries to hold off.

“I’m 18,” Frank replies, “I play a lot of Pokemon, and I’m not a tranny, but I am bisexual. I’ve known Mikey since we were… what? 6 or 7? I don’t know.”

Gerard nods, respecting the answer they received. Frank finally takes his hit before passing it off, his throat burning, “I can’t take anymore, sorry.”

“No worries,” Gerard replies, taking two more hits before he ashes the joint on a tray and leans back in his seat. Frank blinks. His vision has begun to change, he can't exactly describe how, but it just... changes. He looks down at his hands and they look just a bit bigger than they did before. He blinks, his eyes feel heavy as he turns his gaze back to Gerard and Mikey. Mikey is giving him that same look right back, pupils almost wider than his brown irises. Frank takes a breath, trying to calm his increasing heart rate. He lets out a squeaky, "G-Gerard?" Everything is changing and it's starting to freak him out. Gerard says something back to him in a worried tone, but Frank can't entirely tell what he said. He inhales again, trying to catch his breath but he can't. He feels his anxiety peaking and for some reason, even though he wasn't worried about it at all earlier, he's suddenly terrified his parents will find out. He's scared they'll find him here and they'll figure it out, if his eyes are even half as red as Mikey's, he knows they'll know immediately. And just as he thinks that the thought leaves his head. He calls out Gerard's name again, but this time, Gerard's answer comes through.

"You doing okay, there, bud?"

"I-I-" Frank takes another deep breath, trying to gain control over the thoughts in his head again. He suddenly hates that he has to sit up, and he says to the other people in the room, "Can I lay down, please?"

"Of course," Gerard takes Frank's hand, standing from his seat. Frank takes it, hoisting himself up to his own feet. Mikey doesn't stand with him, too baked on his own. Gerard turns to their brother and asks, "Is it alright if I leave you here for a minute or two?" "Yeah," Mikey replies enthusiastically, nodding. Gerard helps Frank step over their bong before leaving for Mikey's room, helping him lay down on the twin bed. Frank covers himself with the blanket, suddenly feeling much calmer now that he isn't uncomfortable. It's a little panic-inducing being somewhere he's never been before. He doesn't know the environment that well, he doesn't know who could show up or what Gerard would do, especially in his inebriated state, but Gerard seems gentle with how he cares for Frank.

They leave for a moment, telling Frank they're just getting water before they return with a tall glass of cold water. Frank gratefully takes the glass, taking a couple of sips before he sets the glass on the bedside table and lays back down, covering his eyes from the bright sun. Behind his eyes, he sees shapes and patterns and colors that weren't there before. Almost like a closed-eyed hallucination.

"Just relax, take a few deep breaths. You're going to be okay. It'll pass."

Frank nods, taking breaths as Gerard instructed. In, 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3, 4... Slowly, he feels himself relax into the bed, exhaustion, and calmness setting him over. Frank takes one more deep breath, feeling a cold shiver rush from his head down to his fingers. Being huddled up in the blanket helps immensely with his high, keeping him from the strange temperature changes he feels coursing through him.

"Thank you, Gerard." Frank croaks, peeking his eye out from the blanket to look at the person. Gerard smiles softly in reply, "Of course, man. First trips can be scary, and there's a chance that weed just isn't for you. Just don't knock it 'til you try it."

"Yeah, of course," Frank agrees. For some reason, Gerard's face looks like it's been designed with CGI like he's in a movie or a video game, "You can go back out there, I'll join in a few minutes."

"Mikey's doing okay, I'm just worried about you for now," Gerard replies. Frank's cheeks glow with heat, he doesn't know if it's from the weed or something else, though.

Frank nods, unsure of how to reply as he rubs his fingers together, noticing that they've grown sweaty and cold. Gerard takes his hand and immediately whistles, "Jesus, you're clammy. You doing alright, kid?"

Frank’s cheeks grow hotter, “Uh, yeah, I’m okay.” 

Gerard feels his cheek next, “Damn, drink some more water and cuddle up in that blanket. Do you want anything to eat? Are you too hot or too cold?

“Uh,” Frank examines his body, unsure of what he needs. His fingers are shaky and his armpits and forehead feel much wetter than they should, “Honestly, I just feel sick and sweaty right now.”

Gerard passes the water back, forcing Frank to drink at least a little more, which he does. His mouth feels like cotton, tasting the water again definitely did help. He takes a few more deep breaths, wiping off his forehead before he finally replies, “I can go back into the living room, now.”

Gerard nods, “Do you need help?”

Frank shakes his head, afraid that his pants would only grow tighter. He’s still in denial about that. He slowly rises to his feet, his knees shaking just the slightest as he follows Gerard back into the living room, the blanket still wrapped around him and water in hand. When they arrive in the living room, Mikey is staring at the TV, pupils blown out of proportion, laughing to himself at the Family Guy playing. Gerard takes his seat first, pulling the bong out of the way to allow Frank a seat as well. He lays down across the cushion and a half he has to himself and just watches the TV, finally feeling himself grow content with his conditions.

“Are you doing okay, Mikey?” Gerard asks. Mikey nods, absent-mindedly, eyes still glued to the television. 

“Thank you for the smoke,” Frank says softly.

Gerard only hums in reply, pulling his bong up and loading weed into a small bowl to smoke. Frank watches in fascination as he lights the bowl and inhales through the rim of the bong. He then pulls out the bowl and inhales the smoke that had accumulated.

Frank’s attention pulls back to the television as he feels his eyes grow heavier and heavier, his eyelids begin to fall past his pupils and he slowly falls asleep to the shapes and colors that dance behind his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated and help me write more, ty!!!


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